


The Greatest Show

by pukeytyler (cherryblur)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - Circus, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Physical Abuse, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryblur/pseuds/pukeytyler
Summary: “Ready?” He asks, eyes glinting in the confetti and glitter.Josh nods like he was born to do this, and they run out hand in hand.





	The Greatest Show

**Author's Note:**

> HEAVILY influenced by the greatest showman

“That’s sort of ironic, don’t you think?” 

A brunette cocks his head, still caked in chalk from a previous performance.  
“A fire-eater smoking a cigarette?”

The taller one, sporting a head of frizzy red hair, blows smoke from his nose and laughs.  
“I suppose it could be.”  
He licks his lips and still tastes gasoline. 

“I never took you as someone to judge, Tyler.” He narrows his eyes in a friendly way, fingers flicking ash onto the straw-covered floor below them.  
It’s quiet where they are-away from the bustling crowds and curious eyes.  
Tyler rolls his chocolate-hued pair, feet tiptoeing over sawdust and dirt until they’re closer. 

“And I never took you as a smoker, Joshua.”

“You’ve been here how long?” Josh asks, voice pitching a bit. “Longer than me, surely. I’d have thought you’d figure it out by now.” 

“Twelve years,” Tyler answers curtly. 

“Ah. Only seven for myself.” 

“Yes,” The brunette nods. “I remember.”

He turns around, a smirk lining his lips. “I remember thinking how curious it was that we hired a man who drinks gasoline for a living.” 

“It was simply preposterous, in my opinion,” He continues. 

Josh raises his eyebrows at the glitter coated shoulders hunched in front of him.  
“That’s quite the word. Did Brendon teach you that one?” 

“I learned it myself, thank you.” 

They’re facing again, costumes still casting glints under the dimmed spotlights. Tyler crosses his arms, taped fingers tapping a makeshift beat against his skin. 

Josh is more exposed. Shirtless, hair slicked and body oiled safely as to not catch any flame he might spit.  
He thinks Tyler’s outfit is girly. 

It’s tight, a leotard at best, hugging his waist and barely lining his shoulders. It exposes more and more skin every year, it feels like.  
Athletic tape covers up to his forearm, wrinkled and peeling from tonight’s show. His feet show the same wear, dirty and worn.

He’s always the crowd-pleaser. 

“I suppose we should get going,” Josh ponders aloud. “I get a feeling we’ll be packing up soon, and this friendly banter is getting boring.” He yawns for effect.

Tyler frowns and ignores the obvious joke at his defense. “Packing? For where?” 

“Brendon’s been talking of traveling. A tour, at most.” 

“A tour,” The brunette echoes.  
He pauses. “I hate the idea already.” 

That earns him a chuckle. “A traveling circus? They’re all the rage, don’t you know?” Josh fizzles his cigarette out with the toe of his boot. “I figure he’ll say something about it tonight.” 

He gestures towards the opening of the tent with a hand outstretched, despite Tyler’s dour expression.  
“Shall we?” 

Tyler scoffs at his gentlemanly ways and brushes past him, entering the main ring where the rest of the acts were already gathered.  
With the seats empty, lights dimmed, it was truly a serene setting. 

“Ah!” Brendon says from the platform he stands upon. “Finally, my two stars. We’ve been waiting for a while now.” He taps his wrist, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Don’t worry, boss, they was probably just makin’ out again behind the lion enclosures.”  
The group giggles softly at the quip, eyes trained on the two boys stalking to their places. 

“Actually,” Tyler says, nose high. “We were discussing the new fad currently going around the city.” 

Josh finds his place and jerks away when the animal wranglers try to clap him on the back with things like, _“Sure got you a fine one, boy,”_ and _“He likes ‘em fiery, huh? Makes sense.”_ Running through his ears. 

Tyler’s only ever been his friend.  
A curvy, smart-mouthed, beautiful friend. 

He’s refocused on the present when that friend is still getting heckled.  
The voices of gritty stagehands bark their way into the conversation.  
“New fad goin’ ‘round? Now what’s tha’? Herpes?”  
Another contagious laugh ripples at Tyler’s expense.

He sets his jaw and sits up straighter.  
“Traveling circuses. Around the world entertainment.” 

It becomes a little quieter. Eyes train upwards to see if it’s actually true. 

Brendon clears his throat on the platform and adjusts the red coat defining his place as their ringmaster.  
The fun has been had, and is over later than it should’ve been. 

“Yes,” He starts. “Tyler is correct. Circuses are beginning to pack up and tour around the country. While it may be _difficult_ ,” He clears his throat.  
“It certainly pays the bills.” 

A murmur passes through the crowd. 

“Are we gonna tour?” A voice from the back pipes up.  
It’s Jenna, a fair-haired girl with the ability to bend her body every which way.  
She sits now with her legs split perfectly, eyes curiously waiting for their answer. 

Brendon studies his creatures, hands sliding over the cane he uses to guide them during the show.  
“Not yet,” He starts. “As you all know, we’re not exactly _struggling_.”  
A few nod in agreement. 

“But life hasn’t exactly..” He scratches the back of his neck. “Been kind as of late.” 

“What d’you mean by that?”  
The question rises from many in the circle of performers. 

Brendon stamps his cane on his circular platform to call order.  
“I mean,” He snaps. “We’re losing business. People are getting tired of the same old thing every night.”

“So,” He continues, lips turning up into a grin. “I’ve found a new act for one of our leading stars, and for the rest of you as well.”  
His eyes turn toward Tyler, glinting with excitement.

“Have you ever ribbon danced, my dear?”

Tyler raises an eyebrow, shaking his head in confusion. 

“It’s.. _sensual_ ,” Brendon explains. “Very slow, very beautiful. I think you’ll find it quite exciting once we get everything hooked up.” 

Slow? Sensual? Tyler tries not to grimace from his spot on the floor and makes eye contact with Josh from across the room.  
He pretends to gag and some giggle. 

“As for the rest of you,” Brendon says. “I have small changes in each of your acts. I’ve left small pamphlets in your trailers for you to look over and adapt to. We’ve got to show the people what they want!”  
He claps once to signal the end of the meeting and everyone rises at the same time. 

Tyler sifts over to Josh, teeth chewing at his bottom lip. 

“Ribbon dancing,” Is what Josh greets him with. “Sounds like something a princess might do.” 

He gets a punch to the arm and a scoff.

“Well,” Tyler focuses on the ground as they walk back to their trailers. “I’ll give it a shot. You know how good I am at being sensual,” He curls up to Josh in a joking manner, eyes dimmed low and hips shifted out. 

“You’re about as sensual as a dog.”

They laugh at each other, slowly approaching their shared trailer.  
Josh of course had his own, but being alone all the time had lapsing after-effects. 

Tyler stretches as they cross the threshold, hand reaching out to grab the slip of paper laying on his dresser.  
“God, new costumes?” He sighs, eyes scanning Brendon’s scribbled writing. 

“If my outfits get any more skimpy I might as well be performing naked.” 

Josh sinks himself into a worn out couch and lights another cigarette.  
“I’m sure some wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

Tyler turns around.  
“Would you be?”

Josh squints at the answer, teeth peeking out to bite at his lower lip.  
“Guess not,” He says. “We’re bros, aren’t we? Nothing shameful about seeing your best buddies’ dick.” 

Tyler rolls his eyes and crumples the paper in his fist.  
“New costumes, new acts-I’ve got to be more ‘aerodynamic’, apparently.” He scoffs. “I doubt Brendon’s ever been two feet off the ground, how does he know how aerodynamic I am?” 

Josh shrugs in reply. “Mine will probably say I have to be hotter or something,” He jokes, then shakes his head. 

“Nah. Seriously though, I’ve been getting sloppy, I won’t lie. It just hurts sometimes.”  
He grimaces, tongue slipping over careless blisters in his mouth. 

“Need a mint?” Tyler asks, making light of the morbid situation. Josh was constantly putting himself at risk every night, mouthfuls of gas spitting flame into crowds, tongue licking at hot blue curls. 

If Tyler’s danger was falling to death, Josh’s was burning himself alive.  
They all had a poison to pick. 

“I do miss it,” He says, ignoring the brunette’s last quip.  
“When I didn’t taste gas all the time. Or my own bleeding mouth sores.”

“Maybe you could quit.”  
Tyler catches a glance from him, fingers unwrapping the tape from his forearms.  
His eyes glint, telling of an unspoken plea that maybe they could run away together. 

Josh stays quiet and instead watches dirty, used athletic tape fall to the even dirtier carpet below them. 

“Could you throw me the aloe lotion?”

Tyler catches it with a calloused hand, and Josh finally sees why he was wincing so much during the show.  
His palms bleed, irritated and hot.  
“It’s my fault,” He clucks, pasting bandages over the soothing lotion.  
“I’ve been practicing too much. Going too hard before shows, I guess.” 

Josh knows why. He doesn’t speak it, but he knows. 

Swinging from platform to platform, balancing, teetering on the edge of death was something that kept the brunette grounded, sane.  
It was his therapy. 

So it was perfectly reasonable that Josh would be worrying if Tyler practiced too much.

Something was wrong. 

He’s biting off a bandage with his teeth, securing it with more tape when Josh finally pipes up. 

“You’re hurting yourself, Tyler.” 

A pause.

“I know.”  
Tyler looks at him with eyes that beg him not to intrude. 

“Just,” Josh frowns. “Take care of yourself, okay? Brendon will have your ass if his pretty acrobat can’t perform because of practice.” 

Both of their faces fall. Josh leaves with a kiss-marked cheek and his hair falling from its gelled back position.  
Mosquitos buzz in his ears the whole way back. 

Sometimes, he does think they could run away together. 

•

“Tyler! You’re losing it, man!” 

He’s fallen for the third time today. 

Slipped off, wrong footed, misplaced.  
Cursing as loud as he could before he hits the thin net below the trapeze set.  
Josh watches with a fizzled out torch in his hand and a worried spark in his eyes. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” He hisses, when his partner, Colin, attempts to help. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re not,” Josh hears Colin murmur. 

“You’re bleeding again, Tyler.” 

Brendon notices this-has been noticing it all day.

“Just go back to your trailer,” He finally snaps.  
“I’ve got enough to worry about. I need you ready to perform like you actually _know_ what you’re doing, Tyler. Come back when you’ve figured it out.” 

Tyler opens his mouth to reply and is hushed by Colin. 

Josh gets a hard brush against his shoulder when the brunette is ripping his performance tape off, snapping at whoever wants to approach him. 

“Josh,” Brendon catches him off guard.  
“Get back to work.” 

He breaks his gaze and his thumb burns when he flicks a lighter to life for the tenth time that day.  
The torch is bitter when his tongue puts out the flame. 

•

Tyler is gorgeous that night.  
He always is, despite the winces of pain seen by everyone below, and the tears painting his cheeks when he’s finished, thunderous applause and Brendon’s hearty voice orchestrating his exit. 

When he bows, his face shows all the pain he’s in only to the floor below him. 

Josh had watched from his usual spot, cross-legged from behind the big curtain.  
Jenna sat next to him, and every time the brunette curved his body in a mid-air flip, hands stretched out to grasp the wooden bar dangling from the ceiling, she’d squeeze his hand a little harder. 

“He’s like a brother to me,” She admitted.  
“I’m scared for him every night. What if he’s too hurt to fix his own mistake? Who’s gonna save him?” 

Josh had looked up, caught a pair of chocolate eyes and received a wink in reply just before the crowd enveloped them in a roaring symphony of cheers because hell, Tyler had just triple flipped into Colin’s waiting palms, and, for a split second, they had slipped, eagerly feeding the daring excitement rippling through every taken seat. 

All part of the show, Tyler’s eyes seemed to say in reassurance. 

And it was there that Josh promised,  
“I’ll catch him.”

•

After the show that night, Josh has to wait until Tyler’s swinging himself through the window of his trailer. 

“Hey sweet cheeks,” He greets, wincing a bit when he settles on the couch. 

“Sore?” Josh asks, only receiving the hiss of the Coke bottle he just opened as a response. 

Tyler just shrugs. 

“A little too rough tonight?”

He laughs in a pained way.  
“You have no idea.”  
His eyes are tired, bags lining much to deep beneath them. It’s here that Josh sees up close just how ragged the brunette’s been running himself. 

“You’re still...” Josh makes a gesture. “Aren’t you?” 

Tyler leans his head back, voice hoarse.  
“Yeah. I have to.” 

“You don’t,” Is the immediate response. 

“I can’t live if I don’t pay for what I need.”  
He stretches his body out, the costume he was still wearing straining against tanned skin.  
“Brendon doesn’t pay us shit, you know this.” 

He shakes his head. “But what would you know. You just buy cigarettes and Coke all time.” He chuckles. 

Josh opens his mouth to say that he does live with the necessities, that he does know the meaning of a dollar, but the brunette is already up and jogging down the stair-steps of his trailer before the words make their way out. 

It’s amazing how someone so delicate could be broken over so many years. 

•

“You know,” Josh calls up. “You can’t live up there.”

It’s almost midnight. 

Tyler sits on one of his bars, legs curled beneath him.  
“Says who?” He shouts back down. 

“Says me.” 

He swings, hips moving himself back and forth until he’s at a momentum where he can stand and leap for the nearest bar.  
He grips it roughly and pulls himself up. There’s no net beneath him. 

“Wanna see my ribbons?” He asks, eyebrow raising.  
And without waiting for an answer he leaps to one of the two platforms, feet slipping down the ladder until he’s jogging across the dirt floor, yanking at ropes and leveling sandbags and there they are, pouring from above like liquid metal.

Giant, flowing and long from the rafters. They’re a light purple, almost white. They match his new costume.  
For now he wears nothing but thin shorts that hug his body-and his mandatory tape. 

Josh watches with curious eyes and crossed arms.

“They’re gorgeous, no?” Tyler asks, fingers lacing through the fabric.  
“Quite easy to master, also. As long as you have-“ He wraps a leg around one of the ribbons, hoisting himself up until he’s upside down, grinning at Josh.  
“Body control.” 

“Can’t say I’m exactly an expert in that territory,” Josh says, watching tanned skin disappear and reappear as he curls around the ribbons.  
“You seem to like it though.”

“It’s more comfortable.”  
Tyler climbs and climbs and wraps himself in smooth fabric until he falls, caressed and protected by the knots he’d made.  
“It doesn’t hurt as much, to be honest,” He admits.  
“I just wish people wouldn’t stare when I practice.”

Josh hadn’t been present for the two shows Tyler had given with the ribbons, for he’d been too busy trying not to vomit at the smell of gasoline.  
He’s so tired. 

“Is it _sensual_ enough, though?” 

He’s broken from his thoughts by Tyler, who’s thighs hold himself up while he fully exposes himself down.  
He’s truly, utterly gorgeous.  
He flutters his eyelashes dramatically, tongue peeking out between his teeth. 

“I think you look like a dork,” Josh tells him.

To be honest, if he wasn’t so distracted by the pain coursing down his throat, he _totally_ would be sporting a boner right now. 

Tyler was just good at his job, that’s all. 

He spins now, crawling further up just so he can fall down again.  
“Wanna try, fire boy?” He taunts, kicking the second ribbon he wasn’t currently using.  
“It’s easy.” 

There’s a moment of hesitation from the ground floor.  
Sure, Josh had the upper body strength to hoist himself up on those damn ribbons, but then what?  
He wasn’t lanky or flexible enough to weave his way around them like Tyler does. 

_Oh, what the hell_ , his brain says, and then he’s climbing up after Tyler, a smile slowly curling onto his face. 

The brunette faces him, gently held by his own ribbon.  
“I’ve been wondering what a duet would look like,” He ponders.  
Then he’s swinging over and Josh is yelping in surprise when there’s two of them clinging to the fabric. 

“Just relax,” Tyler tells him. “Let your body move on its own.” 

Josh is way too tensed, too afraid he’s going to become a splatter on the ground to just _relax._

“Here.”

He’s looking up and seeing Tyler slide himself down until they’re face to face.  
It’s very...close. 

“Start slow,” He guides, fingers trailing over the worn out tattoos that coat Josh’s skin.  
“Usually there isn’t two people on a ribbon for this long, so I’ve got to go back to mine,” He says softly, their noses almost brushing because Josh really isn’t trying to do much besides stare and wonder what would happen if he just _kissed_ him. 

But then he blinks and that moment is gone, and he’s alone. 

“I’d love to have you join me,” Tyler says. He slides down off of his ribbon and helps Josh down.  
“Colin is too afraid. He doesn’t like that we have nowhere to land, nothing really solid to grab onto.” 

Josh is still dazed.  
“You think Brendon would flip his shit? If he saw us together doing this?” 

Tyler turns, shrugging as he heads back to his trailer. 

“Not if we made it _sensual_.” 

•

It’s packed tonight. Every ticket sold, every seat filled.  
All because of Tyler and few others who’ve caught the eye of the public. 

“I want you all to meet Dallon,” Brendon told them, gesturing to a man much too tall for comfort.  
“He’ll be one of the first in our new lineup tonight.”  
They’ve been introduced to at least four new acts, all taking up more and more time from others.  
The animal wranglers had to cut their show down, leaving tigers and elephants without any sort of purpose. It’s all lion taming now.

Tyler shifts on the ground. “When am I on again?”

Brendon’s eye flashes.  
“The end, my dear.” He turns to Josh.  
“I’d like some sort of flamboyant ending for him, if you could. You’re my pyrotechnics man, so make it something.. _fiery_.”  
He laughs at his own joke and Josh tells him he’ll do his best. 

“I know you two are friends,” He says the word _friends_ like it’s a little more than that, like he knows Josh wants it to be more than that.  
“So I expect it to be the best you’ve ever done.” 

Josh has been guzzling down nothing but cold drinks and menthol cough drops, but he still nods like he’s going to try.  
His throat aches with every swallow. 

Tyler shoots him a look from across the meeting circle and he shakes his head in assurance, to wave off any suspicion.  
Instead he focuses on the bandages still wrapping the brunette’s hands. 

They seem to be healing, he tries to say to himself as his own sort of reassurance. They’re in their own world, communicating without words.

His bubble of thoughts is popped at the sound of uproar. His fellow acts are outraged, and he can’t figure out why exactly. 

“I know!” Brendon shouts over them. “I know you’re upset, but we have to adapt to what the crowds want, understand? I’m not changing my show just because a few of you don’t like the new lineup.”  
He turns as to signal the end of the meeting and is gone, angry mutters still floating at his expense. 

“Uh-what happened? What’s the matter?” 

“We’re out,” Patrick, the other contortionist alongside Jenna, grumbles. “Taken out by more animal acts. And _Tyler_.” 

Josh turns to find Jenna cradled in Tyler’s arms, tears streaking her cheeks.  
“Where will I go?” She sobs. “This was my home.” 

He hears Tyler mumble that she can stay with him until she can find a steady place to live-and tries not to feel jealous at the fact that they won’t be having anymore time alone while in his trailer. 

He decides its best to leave the grieving to themselves, and instead heads back to his own trailer to prepare for tonight’s show, Brendon’s list of adjustments tight in his grip. 

And it’s in his own trailer that he thinks about that pondering proposition that’s been gnawing at the back of his mind for weeks now. 

_Could they run away?_

Every tainted glance, the uncomfortable body posture, the simple talk of quitting, or starting over, always coming from Tyler made Josh think that the brunette had real intentions of leaving this place soon. 

But why? 

He has everything: fame, a small amount of the fortune Brendon makes every night, fans that adore him any time he steps foot onto that messy dirt stage. 

It almost seems selfish for him to want to throw it all away. 

He can’t mull about it for much longer, however, because the delicate boy in question is knocking at his door now. 

“Tyler,” He says, eyeing the disheveled appearance in front of him. He stands with a coke bottle in one hand a a cigarette in the other. 

“Hey.”  
Tyler pushes past him without saying much more. 

“Something wrong?” 

“Sure,” He replies, settling down on the couch. He’s frazzled; by the looks of it has a faint outline of a handprint on his cheek. 

“You’re hurt?” Josh guesses again, fingers tapping a beat on the bottle in his hand. “Was it Brendon again?” 

“Patrick,” Tyler corrects. “I guess I’m kicking everyone out with my showtimes.”

“Where’s Jenna?” 

“Still in my trailer,” He answers. “She’s planning on living with her parents for a while. She leaves on Monday.” 

It’s quiet besides the humming mosquitoes outside. 

He leans back, eyes glassy.  
“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Josh.” 

Josh grimaces. “It’s not your fault Brendon wanted to change the lineup. Why quit after all you’ve achieved?”

Tyler shakes his head.  
“I want a real life. I wanna settle down, y’know? Get married, maybe even have kids.”

“With who?” 

He brings his knees up under his chin, muffling his speech.  
“I’m still working on that part.” 

He sighs. “I just.”  
There’s a pause.  
“I’m not gonna die here, Josh.” 

It’s a touchy subject. 

“That’s reasonable,” Josh answers. 

“No,” Tyler says. “I want to be gone, within a few years, even. I want to have a life that doesn’t depend on me hurting myself for applause or whoring myself out just to buy the necessities-because God knows Brendon doesn’t pay us enough for those.”

It’s quiet for a moment. This is the first time he’s ever spoken truly about the dirtier forms of money he’s made out loud. 

Tyler’s got a pretty face. A lean body.  
Men like that, for a price and a pair of zipped lips afterwards. 

“I’m sorry,” Josh tries. 

“S’not your fault.” 

The brunette leans back, letting himself be utterly helpless.  
“I’ve got to stop complaining,” He says with a laugh. “I’m starting to sound like Sarah.” 

Sarah was Brendon’s wife, and sort-of assistant.  
She bitched just about every time she opened her mouth, and Tyler was one of her favorite topics.  
(He thinks it’s because Brendon fancies him more.)

Josh flicks the untouched remains of his cigarette onto the floor.  
“Do you want to go practice? A little birdie has told me you’ve made up a new routine.” He smiles. 

Tyler groans. “Did Colin really spoil it? That rat bastard-now I HAVE to show you.” He gets up and stretches, back arching to show off the ribs poking beneath his skin and muscle shifting over that. 

It seems to clear his mind, swinging back and forth in a timeless matter, knowing only Josh’s eyes were locked on him. 

Josh’s eyes, Josh’s face.  
His heart flutters mid-air and he thinks he’s doomed. There’s nothing he’d love more than to let himself fall knowing there’d be a big strong fire-breather there to catch him. 

He almost tries a few times, just to test his luck. 

•

“Show time! Places, everyone, we’ve done this a million times before, no need for failure now.” 

Brendon’s insistent hounding makes everyone on edge, too nervous to screw up or forget their cue. 

“Don’t die,” Tyler says, leaning against one of the hundreds of frames holding their tent up.  
“I’d hate to see such a pretty pair of lips get burnt.” 

Josh snorts with his mouth full, shooting the brunette a look.  
He gets a kiss on the cheek for good luck and is off once the music starts and Brendon is shouting out his introduction. 

The crowds love his entrance, and maybe that’s why he’s been doing it for so long.  
It’s simple really, just running near the front rows with a dimmed torch until he’s able to light up and spit flames dangerously close to the crowd with a cocky smirk and a wave of his arm. 

The key is staying hidden as to keep the element of surprise alive. 

Then his gaze is always up, eyes searching for those two nimble bodies twirling through the air as Brendon rambles off about his dazzling trapeze, his magically trained animals, his amazing out of this world anomalies! 

The crowds eat it up.  
Josh and Tyler exchange a look of pure boredom and Josh tips back another mouthful of gasoline. 

He’ll only be spitting the fire tonight, on account of his mouth being too injured to be swallowing any flames.  
Hell, he’s about in tears with how much the gas stings his blisters and throat.  
It’s all for the show, he reminds himself. 

Tyler’s hanging on to Colin’s forearms when he swings just low enough to blow a kiss down to whoever was on the ground. Josh knew it was for him, but acts surprised nonetheless. 

“Isn’t he something, folks? Daring AND divine, give it up for Tyler and his partner Colin!” Brendon is waving applause their way-up and down and side to side because they just can’t stop moving. 

Tyler’s fake smile is expertly executed. 

The rest of the show is like clockwork: the same thing, in the same routine that they practiced over and over so many times it was second nature. 

It’s during the big finale that things get improvised, to say the least. 

The elephants and horses are brought out for their only act, every single human onstage is out, doing some sort of chaotic movement that tries to trace the audience’s eyes from wherever they were looking.

To cut it short, it was organized pandemonium. 

Josh can barely hear, over the music and other pyrotechnics and the boom of Brendon’s voice over the loudspeaker.  
But when he’s dead center-a straight view from the audience, he does hear the quickly approaching sound of Tyler’s voice from above, saying,

“Heads up!”

There’s a gasp from the crowds and Josh doesn’t even need to look up to know what’s happening. 

His arms are automatically out in front of him because Tyler does this all the damn time.  
He’s weighted down by the brunette in seconds, and from his quick no-look reaction, gets cheers whooping his way. 

Tyler grins at him, stepping back down to the ground so that he was being dipped, one leg crooked around Josh’s waist with the other leaned in front of him. 

It’s a perfect finale. The spotlights do their job and show the two breathlessly laughing at each other, Josh trying to keep the shaking flame in his free hand up and away from them. 

Tyler pants, fingers almost slipping against Josh’s slick bare skin.  
“Pretty good, huh?” He asks. 

Josh just shakes his head, a permanent smile pasted on his face.  
This boy was going to be the death of him.

And to top it all off, to end the show with a real bang, Tyler does the stupidest thing of all. 

He leans in, grasps Josh’s face, and makes the crowd collectively stop. 

They’re kissing. 

The cameras flash, the mothers cover their children’s eyes, the men hoot and holler and by God, someone turns off the house lights only after it all happens. 

Tyler doesn’t care. He’s carding his fingers through messy gel-slick hair and resting his forehead against Josh’s.  
“Sorry,” He says quietly in the dark, while the patrons are escorted out blindly. His tongue tastes menthol cough drops and bitter gasoline.

Josh answers with his mouth pressing sloppily against the brunette’s again.  
“Guess I’m sorry too,” He quips. 

And they’re both going to be really sorry because everyone’s gone and the house lights are back on.  
And Brendon’s storming towards them. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Tyler removes himself and faces the ringmaster head on.  
He receives a harsh smack across his face and his head buzzes over the sound of Brendon’s shouting.

“Do you understand what that just cost me? How many people aren’t going to come back because of that? God, I should just remove your whole act. What the fuck were you _thinking_ , Tyler?”

Tyler stands straight-faced. 

“Answer me.”  
Brendon’s face to face with him, seething. His usually perfectly styled black hair is now a mess hanging over his face, making him look even more comically angry. 

“I was making the show sensual, _sir_ ,” Tyler replies, teeth grit. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”  
The sarcasm dripping off his words is like poison. 

Josh stands off behind him, looking, well, scared as shit.  
Like many of the performers, he had nowhere to go if he were to be kicked out or removed. 

But that still wasn’t an excuse to let Tyler get all the punishment. 

“Hey,” He steps in, one arm pushing Tyler behind him. “I’m at fault too. Don’t blame it all on him. I should’ve done something more to stop it. It was a big mistake, I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened at all.” 

His face is steely, respectful but still sure of his own decisions. 

Brendon purses his lips.  
“Go to your trailers, both of you. You’re on suspension until further notice. I don’t want to see you two together, either.” His voice is curt and firm. 

Josh nods with a sigh and looks back to see Tyler wiping his face, tears pouring over the new bruise on his cheek. 

“A mistake,” He mumbles, eyes locked on Josh’s. He’s teetering, nauseous and heartbroken.  
A mistake, is that all it was?

He’s gone before Josh can catch up to him. 

•

Tyler comes through the window of his trailer three hours later.  
It’s 2 AM. 

“Hey,” Josh says through a cigarette he was trying to light. 

Tyler settles himself on the floor, cross-legged. 

“I couldn’t just not see you,” He mutters in an explanation Josh didn’t ask for. 

“Right.”  
He yawns.  
“Where’s Jenna?” 

Tyler fumbles with the tape still glued around his feet.  
“My trailer still. I couldn’t stand to look at her knowing that I had just fucked myself over and was in the same predicament as her now.” 

Josh finally lights his cigarette and tosses his lighter to the side.  
He leans his head back and watches smoke curl into the ceiling. 

They sit at a sort of matched point, quiet and awkward.  
“So,” He starts.  
“It was for the show, wasn’t it?” 

Tyler’s head snaps up, eyebrows furrowed.  
“You really think that?” His voice is on edge.  
“You really think the bullshit answer I gave Brendon was me telling the _truth_?” 

Josh shrugs. “Felt like it.” He pretends not to act surprised at the sudden hostility. 

“Oh, you would say that.”  
Tyler stands, shaking his head.  
“Everything’s just for the fucking show. I can’t ever feel real emotions, can I? It’s just part of my _act_.”  
He says the last word like it’s a death sentence. 

“Why can’t you pull your head out of your ass for two seconds?”  
He’s pacing. 

Josh sits frozen and asks what the meaning of all this is. 

“It was you, Josh.” He looks like he’s going to cry again. “I wanted to settle down with you, I wanted to run away with _you_ , and you know why?”  
He rests his head in his hands, fighting back tears with a shaky laugh. 

“Because I fucking _love you_ , asshole.” 

The silence is deadly. 

“And now!” He waves his arms up. “And now we’re both going to get kicked out!” He’s laughing fully now, nearly hysterical.  
“Now we’ll have no choice! Now we’ll have to stick together and you’ll fucking hate me because I ruined what little we had left all because of one stupid kiss-“

He’s cut off by Josh rising, Josh yanking him out of his angry tirade and pulling him into the safety of a _nother_ stupid kiss. 

“I fucking love you too, asshole,” He murmurs, tilting his head. 

Tyler blinks a few times, too flustered to answer.  
“Shut up,” Are the romantic words his brain comes up with.  
“Do you really?”

Josh nods.  
“I have for a while now, as cliché as it seems. I didn’t know you felt the same way until, well, tonight.” 

“You suck.”  
Tyler punches him in the arm and walks away from him.  
“You couldn’t have just had the balls to tell me earlier? While we still had our jobs?” 

Josh stands with a bored expression on his face and waits for Tyler to stop rambling.

“..I mean, damn Josh, I didn’t think I was THAT hard to talk to, am I?” He looks up and turns a bit red. 

“All that matters now,” Josh says slowly.  
“Is that you’re mine and I’m yours. Okay?” 

Tyler sighs, chews on his lip and lets himself be enveloped in the smell of hair gel and smoke. 

“If you say so, fire boy.” 

•

“So,” Tyler says lowly, out of breath and blushed. “We’re showing how rebellious we are by..making out?” 

Josh rolls his eyes, his face as equally flushed as the brunette’s.  
“Maybe I just wanted to make out with you, dipshit.” 

That earns him a shrug and another pair of lips on his, an eager hand finding its way below his jeans.  
“Whoa, I-“ He starts to intervene but Tyler’s way too good at what he’s doing to try and stop it. 

“That’s-“ He tilts his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing while Tyler attacks his skin with teasing nips.  
“That’s really good.” 

Their hips start to move, Josh’s mainly because there was a hand on his dick and his clothes were way too restraining, and Tyler-well, Tyler was just needy. 

“Not too dry?” He mumbles, rutting against a heated thigh. Josh just babbles in response.

Tyler hums. “I bet you like the pain though.”

Josh grits his teeth through a groan at how low Tyler’s voice was, how tantalizingly slow his hand was moving. 

“You’re gonna come like this,” He murmurs. “All wet and panting for me.” 

Josh stifles a laugh. “And you’re gonna come from humping my leg. I guess we’re both dogs in this sense.” 

Tyler rolls his eyes so far they might’ve hit the ceiling and shuts him up with another kiss. It’s gross and sloppy and both of their bodies are covered in sweat and salvia, but they just don’t seem to care. 

The air conditioner rattling outside orchestrates their loving movements dutifully. 

“Tyler-“ Josh warns, a hand helping the brunette’s along. “Don’t fuck with me like this.” He groans, low and long.  
“Pleease.” 

Tyler smiles with those winning teeth that capture every audience and just places feather-light kisses along his naked collarbone. 

Josh thinks he’s teasing him almost unfairly when he stops abruptly. 

“Ah-shit.” 

Josh looks up in a daze and sees Brendon at his trailer door, fuming.  
He snaps his fingers and points, signaling Tyler’s descent towards the stairs. 

“I can explain,” He starts. 

“I’m sure you can.” Brendon gives Josh a disgusted look. “Fix yourself,” He spits. “Your dick’s out.” 

“This is my trailer!” He slurs, still high on Tyler, who’s blowing him a dramatic kiss while he gets dragged by one arm back to his own trailer, more than likely to be lectured until the sun came up. 

A newspaper is thrown on the floor when the door slams, showing the two of them on the front cover.  
_“Urie’s Reputation Burns in Homosexual Act”_ The front line reads.  
Josh scoffs and throws it away. 

Well, it was fun while it lasted. 

He blinks through the haze of arousal that still surrounds him and tries to think of the best excuse he could give Brendon in the morning when he got his own punishment. 

•

“Curfew?” 

Brendon adjusts himself, waiting for the rustling to die down from the acts just now approaching the meeting.  
“Yes.” 

Pete, the strong man who doubled as the ‘world’s most tattooed body!’ raises an ink-covered hand. 

“Does this apply to all of us? Even the ones who practice late into the night?”

Brendon grins ear to ear.  
“No, no, it only applies to _two_ of you.” 

There are murmurs, but they quiet as soon as he gestures to Tyler and Josh, who sit cross legged next to each other. 

Tyler tried to shield his face under the shadows, a hand wiping crusted blood from underneath his nose.  
It was bent a funny way. Crooked.  
His mouth tasted like iron. 

Brendon continued explaining.  
“My little super stars over here proved to me last night that they can’t be trusted to be outside of their trailers past ten o’clock.” He hisses out the time like an angry mother. 

“So, to fix this, I’ve created a curfew for you two. Five o’clock, if you’re not in your trailers by then, there will be consequences. There will be announcements when it’s time for the show.” He sounds like a snake with all those S consonants.

“Uh,” Melanie, a sword swallower, raises her delicate hand tentatively.  
“Sir, I don’t mean to offend, but what does this have to do with the rest of us?” 

“Ah!”  
Brendon’s still wearing that shit-eating grin that makes Tyler gag.  
“You all will be my patrol team. If you happen to see either of these darling young men outside past their curfew, you should be happy to report the behavior to me.” 

He turns a full circle, eyeing his acts.  
“And if you let it pass by, or choose not to tell,”  
He clears his throat.  
“The same consequences will apply to you.” 

Everyone is silent. Tyler tries not to snort and Josh squeezes his hand roughly. 

“Understand?” 

Everyone nods. 

Brendon sets his jaw, happy with the power he’s stabilized. 

“Good.” 

•

Tyler crawls through Josh’s window that night at midnight, tired and angry. 

“Hey babycakes,” He purrs, settling onto the bed. “Can we have a sleepover?” 

Josh yawns and blinks, trying to wake up from his disturbed sleep fully. He ruffles his hair sleepily. “Guess’so. You’re here already, aren’t you?” 

Tyler settles under the covers, automatically curling up to Josh’s form. He’s nestled, safe. 

“That curfew didn’t last long,” Josh muses. 

“Nah.” 

Tyler nuzzles up, his body position as the little spoon being his absolute favorite. 

“What’s on your mind?” Josh says softly. “I can hear you thinking.” 

Tyler sighs.  
“We’re gonna leave this place,” He says determinedly.  
“And be free. All by ourselves, we’ll get an apartment and-and be...I don’t know-librarians, maybe?” 

He continues to ramble in the dark, explaining how they’ll get real jobs and live real lives, maybe even get married. 

Tyler says wistfully that he’d love to have a daughter someday. 

Josh confirms all this with a snore. 

•

“So,” Tyler huffs, hands scrabbling for something to hold onto. “When are we leaving exactly?” 

Josh grunts, fingers guiding a pair of heavenly thighs roughly.  
“Whenever you want, dollface.” 

He snakes a hand up Tyler’s spine and makes him shiver, their naked bodies all too hot against each other.  
“Shouldn’t we be having this conversation when my dick isn’t in you?” 

Tyler shrugs, eyes clouded with pure unadulterated lust. He smiles like a doofus.  
“Doesn’t matter to me, sweet cheeks.”

The couch below them creaks with their weight and he’s cut off by Josh’s mouth again, all gasoline and breath mints flooding his tastebuds.  
“You’d have thought Brendon would’ve kicked us out by now,” He giggles.  
“We haven’t performed in days, weeks almost.” 

“He’s just pouting,” Josh replies. Tyler slings his arms around his chest and buries a slender nose into the crook of his neck, teeth nipping at tacky skin while their movements start to go subtly faster. 

“I sure do miss my ribbons tho-oh, _fuck_ ,” Tyler whines, he whines so high in his throat Josh can’t help but take over between the two of them, hair hanging low and in his eyes when he moves them down horizontally on the couch. 

Tyler gasps, not knowing what to do besides dig his fingernails into Josh’s shoulders and beg for more. 

“Anyways,” He says, breathless. “I was thinking about leaving next week.” 

Josh simply nods.  
“Sounds good, babe.” 

Tyler comes with a hand on his dick and a plan hatching in his mind. 

•

“ _Leaving_?” 

Tyler grips Josh’s hand a bit harder, while the other holds a suitcase.  
“I’m not speaking in tongues, am I?” 

Brendon scoffs.  
“How could you. How could both of you?”  
He steps closer to them, permeating the air with arrogance. 

“After all I’ve done for you? Given you homes, a life to lead that wasn’t absolute shit, and you’re just,” He throws his hands up and Tyler flinches.  
“Leaving!” 

“You,” He pokes a finger at Josh’s chest.  
“Without me you’d still be a homeless orphaned kid taking dares for a little pocket change. You’d be _nothing_ ,” He spit.  
Josh stands stone-faced and says not a word. 

And to Tyler, Brendon then turns, teeth grit.  
“And you, my sweet flower,” He shakes his head with a nasty smile.  
“You’d still be at home, being screamed at by your mother and beaten by your step-father, constantly waiting for the day that you’d just finally die. I took you away from that, didn’t I?”

Tyler feels tears well up in his eyes.  
“What’s the difference here?” He spit.  
And for the first time, the rest of the acts congregating around them finally see through the excuses that he always gave when his eye was swollen and bruised, when he limped to practice, when his voice would be so hoarse he couldn’t speak a sound. 

“You’re just like him,” He says shakily.  
“I don’t care that you gave me a job, or a ‘better’ life. This isn’t living. This is a prison.”  
He’s cowering beneath Brendon’s shadow, but doesn’t give in.  
“It took me far too long to realize that.” 

Josh pulls him away, teary-eyed and shaking with sobs.  
“We’re going,” He says firmly. 

Brendon keeps shouting, keeps telling them how worthless they’ll be, how they’ll come crawling back in no time. 

Colin catches Tyler’s arm before the reach the exit flap of the tent.  
“I wanted to give you this,” He says softly.  
It’s a piece of wood, cut from an old abandoned bar from their trapeze set.  
It has scribbled handwriting on it, the words making out both of their names. 

It was the first they had practiced on, when Tyler was a measly thirteen year old and Colin was sixteen, already experienced and ready to teach.  
They had signed the bar as a trophy-the first mid-air flip Tyler had done by himself. 

When it was scrapped for new equipment he was sure it was gone forever. 

“Twelve years,” He murmured now, looking up. “You kept it for that long?” 

Colin nodded and was enveloped in a hug.  
“I’ll never forget you. Ever. I promise I’ll come back. For you, for Jenna, for everyone who didn’t loathe me.”  
They laugh, and Tyler feels like he’s leaving a lifetime behind. 

“I’ll never make the show as amazing as you did,” Colin admits.  
“But I’ll keep your spirit alive, Tyler.” 

Josh pulls him away before he can get too emotional, out of the humid tent, through dusty air and into the taxi waiting for them out on the dirt road. 

“It’s time to start over,” He says. 

Tyler takes a look back, eyes glazing over at the place he called home for so long.  
The dizzying spotlights would pour over nimble bodies without him, for years to come even.

“It’s time to start over,” He agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> shitty ending but ok


End file.
